Tiberius continued, drawing back Jake’s attention, “While the decision was not unanimous among the Council, the majority voted to allow you to remain in Calypsos for now.”
Jake let out the breath he’d been holding. It wasn’t the warmest of welcomes to this strange land, but he’d take it.
Tiberius pointed to Marika’s father. “Magister Balam has been gracious enough to open his home to you, young Jacob. He has expressed interest in learning more about your sy-enz.”
Jake found his voice. “Th-Thank you. We’ll be no trouble. We promise.”
Tiberius held up his hand. “You mistake my words. Your sister will not be going with you.
“What?” Jake stammered. “Wait. I don’t think—”
Tiberius silenced him with a frown. “Elder Astrid Ulfsdottir has petitioned for Katherine Ransom to join her at Bornholm Hall.”
The tall woman nodded. “She is fit and strong of limb. I see the makings of a warrior in her.”
Jake turned to his sister. Kady’s face had paled.
Tiberius continued, “A final condition upon your dwelling here in Calypsos is that my sons will be assigned to the two of you as…as attendants. You are not to roam our streets without their company.”
Jake understood the meaning behind his words. They were being assigned guards.
“Pindor will see to you.” Tiberius nodded to Jake. “And Heronidus will attend to your sister. At least, for a period of time.”
Until we can be fully trusted, Jake thought.
“For now, the day grows late,” Tiberius finished. “Best we let you two retire to your new homes and get yourselves settled.”
The Viking woman stepped to Kady’s side and clamped a hand on her shoulder. Marika rushed over to Jake. The girl’s expression was a mix of apology and excitement.
But Jake stared over at Kady. Their eyes met. He knew what she was thinking. She had placed her trust in him to figure out a way home. His earlier words of assurance echoed in his head.
As long as we stick together, we’ll be fine.
As they were about to be pulled away, Jake realized his plan—only a few minutes old—was already falling apart.
How would they ever get home now?
10
THE WHITE ROAD
Jake hugged his sister before they were separated. It was awkward. He couldn’t remember a time when he’d actually hugged her before. And everyone was watching them, making it doubly uncomfortable. He whispered in her ear, forcing his tongue to speak English versus All-Worlds. He didn’t want to be overheard.
“Keep a watch on everything. Learn what you can.”
“What am I supposed to—”
“Just play along. Make friends.” It was a talent Kady had mastered and a skill Jake barely understood. But in terms of espionage, such an ability went a long way.
Tiberius cleared his throat behind them. “That will be enough. Night falls, and we all have much to do before we find our beds.”
Jake stepped back. Kady, no longer hugging Jake, seemed at a loss as to what to do with her arms. She ended up folding them around her own chest, plainly nervous.
The Viking woman crossed to Kady and touched a hand to his sister’s elbow. “It is not a long walk back to Bornholm. But we should set off now or we’ll find only a cold supper awaiting us.”
Kady gave Jake one last forlorn glance, then accompanied Astrid Ulfsdottir across the hall. Jake watched them leave.
“Fret not, ah xi’ paal,” Marika’s father said to Jake, slipping into the Mayan tongue. “You’ll see your sister at least once a day…if not every other day. Until then, let us show you where you’ll be staying.”
Marika pinched the edge of his safari jacket and tugged him toward the archway to the right of the upper bench.
“Papa and I live in the Tower of Enlightenment, as do all the Magisters of Calypsos.” Shyness shone in her jade eyes. “Come, let me show you—”
“Mari, let your friend breathe,” her father warned. “There’ll be plenty of time to show him around, but I imagine something to fill his belly might interest him more at the moment.”
Jake’s stomach growled its agreement.
He was led to the archway, where he found a narrow spiraling staircase. As Jake entered the stairwell, he paused, not sure whether to go up or down.
Marika said, “Below lies the domain of Magister Zahur. He keeps to the roots of the tower, where he houses small jungle creatures in cages and baskets for his examinations into the alchemy of life.”
Jake remembered the tattooed Egyptian. He also noted Marika’s mouth crinkle with distaste, plainly not happy with the man’s line of study.
Marika directed Jake up the stairs. “These first floors belong to Magister Oswin.” She lowered her voice as they crossed through the levels of his domain and hid a small smile. “He doesn’t like to climb any more stairs than he must—unless there’s a meal to be had.”
Climbing several more floors, they reached a landing, and Marika headed down a short entry hall that ended at a wooden door. She pulled out a long brass key from a pocket and inserted it into a lock. With a twist, she pulled the latch and opened the door.
“Our home,” she said, and waved Jake inside ahead of her.
He stepped over the threshold into a large common room, circular in shape. Other doorways led off to neighboring rooms, and a narrow staircase climbed up to a second level. While there were no windows, the room was lit by jagged chunks of glowing amber crystals that hung from iron chains bolted to the rafters.
A round table in the center of the room had already been set with white pottery bowls that steamed around the edges of their lids, smelling of spices and simmering stew. To one side rose a stack of flatbread. On the other side, a pile of spiky-skinned fruit the size of cantaloupes filled a large bowl.
As Jake stepped toward the table, movement to the left caught his eye. He turned in time to see a narrow door, hardly wider than an ironing board, close without a sound.
“Who…?” Jake asked as Marika and her father crowded in behind him. He stared at the door. “Is there anyone else living here with you?”
“Just the two of us…now,” Magister Balam said with a trace of sadness. “Come. Let us eat while the food is still hot.”
Jake craned a look over to the narrow door as he was ushered to the table. Maybe he’d imagined the movement. Turning back to the table, he dove into the meal, following Marika’s example, using the flatbreads like tortillas to heap up some of the stewed meats from one of the pottery bowls.